Hunters Of Apollo (SYOC-Closed)
by Superhero.love
Summary: After an argument with his sister, Apollo makes the decision to assemble his own group of hunters and huntresses. (This is a story where you fill out a form, and if it follows all the guidelines, I put it in the story.)
1. Rules

**Rules:**  
 **  
**

 **1)** Your character can not be blessed by or a child of the following or their Roman counterparts:  
Zeus  
Poseidon  
Hades  
Hera  
Hestia  
Artemis  
Any other maiden god/goddess  
Primordials  
Titans  
Giants

 **2)** If your character has powers, make sure theymatch up with their godly parent!  
 **Example—**

 **Godly Parent:** Demeter  
 **Powers:** Can turn invisible, raise the dead, and summon unicorns.

 **3)** Give your character a flaw in their personality; nobody's perfect!

 **4)** By submitting a character, you give me full right to use that character in whichever way I want in the story. I will take requests, though. For example, if you really want your character to have a subtle crush on another character, okay.  
That would be a good addition. But I won't make your character beat Percy Jackson in a sword fight, because, well…

 **5)** Don't make your character OP! Simple as that.

 **6)** I have every right to deny your character.

 **7)** Both males and females (and non-binaries) are allowed in the hunt, so if you see that the male:female ratio is, like, 2:9, make a male character, or if it's 9:2, make a female. It's fine if it's a little uneven (like 5:7).

 **8)** You can't be mad at me for something yourcharacter did or didn't do. On a related note, I may slightly alter your character to fit into the story.

 **Those are all the rules for now! I may add some later on if something comes to my attention. In the next part, I will present to you the** _ **Character Forms.**_


	2. Character Forms

**Name:**

 **Age (12-25):**

 **Gender:**

 **Sexuality:**

 **Godly Parent:**

 **Mortal Family:**

 **Appearance (e.g., eye color, hair color, height):**

 **Powers (if any):**

 **Preferred Weapon:**

 **Skills:**

 **Personality:**

 **Backstory:**

 **Marks (Scars, Birthmarks, Tattoos):**

 **Time At CHB/CJ:**

 **Other:**

Feel free to just copy and paste this into the reviews with your character info next to it!

 _ **I will only be accepting 15 characters. First come, first serve. I will begin the story when I feel I have a good amount.**_


	3. Characters

**All of these are copied and pasted from another page onto this one, so if you see any random paragraphing or slashes with words like "on" or "break", ignore it.**

* * *

 **Name:** Ambrosia Feint

 **Age:** 14

 **Gender:** Female

 **Sexuality:** Pansexual

 **Godly Parent:** Hermes

 **Mortal Family:** Donna Feint (Mother)

 **Appearance:** Straight, shoulder-length black hair, almond-shaped brown eyes. Fair skin. Curvy, slightly obese. About 5'6".

 **Powers:** Can run much faster than the average demigod.

 **Preferred Weapon:** Bow/Arrow, Spear

 **Skills:** Has amazing endurance, can crochet really well, and is a decent swimmer. Can pickpocket just about anybody.

 **Personality:** Flirtatious, Loves to make people laugh (and good at it), Slightly defiant. Enjoys the outdoors and sunbathing. Is a bit of a people pleaser and a blabbermouth, and tends to get cocky after a string of luck. Has a darker,sadder  
/part of her that rarely comes out.

 **Backstory:** When she was a child, Ambrosia was a bubbly, happy girl with a bright smile and chubby cheeks. Her mother, Donna, was a thin and beautiful celebrity with a pretty smile (something that Ambrosia inherited), but when the publicstarted  
/noticing her daughter's weight, shebegan fat shaming her. While at first it was just slightly, it grew and grew to where Ambrosia couldn't even come downstairswithout a mean comment directed her way. The kids at school all avoidedher, and for

a long while, Ambrosia had no friends; butthen a strange boy named Bush Ferland moves to town and befriendsher. Sometime during it, Donna had increased her verbal abuse to Ambrosia, almost hitting her several times. This wasalso due to the fact

/that Ambrosia had come out as pansexual, which to Donna was just anotherreason she was a freak. Bush, after going to her school for several months, randomly moved away but came back a few days later with hooves anda knapsack. He managed

to convince Ambrosia of her heritage andthat they needed to go. About halfway to CHB, a manticore caught scent of them and chased them the rest of the way. After several close calls and many cuts and bruises, Ambrosiaand Fern make it to Camp.

There, everyone is accepting, and Ambrosia stays there year round.

 **Marks:** Random scars and half-faded bruises speckling everywhere. Small burn on shoulder.

 **Time At CHB/CJ:** About 3 1/2 Years.

 **Other:** N/A

* * *

TFM101

 **Name** : Jace L. (A.K.A. Jackal)

 **Age** : 15

 **Gender** : Male

 **Sexuality** : Straight as a meter/yard stick

 **Godly Parent** : Hephaestus

 **Mortal Family** : 2 older step-brothers, Jamie L. (Younger)

 **Appearance** : Dirty blond hair, grey eyes; about 5'8".

 **Powers** : Sass (learned from Jamie); Technological Know-How

 **Preferred Weapon** : Celestial Bronze Flying Legos (Celestial bronze lego pieces attached to nanobots, which are capable of enough thrust to allow these pieces flight. Sometimes looks like a swarm of bugs.)

 **Skills** : Technological Know-How; Sass (learned from Jamie)

 **Personality** : Puns, socially awkward, and honestly believes everyone has a bit of good on them. Apologizes to monsters he kills.

 **Backstory** : Canadian. Grew up a Mormon. Still has a bit of shell shock concerning the Greek world.

 **Marks** : N/A

 **Time At CHB/CJ** : ~2 months

 **Other** : Jamie will sometimes call Jace "Space Ace". If anyone other then Jamie calls Jace "Space Ace", Jace will send his Legos after you.

* * *

TFM101

 **CONTINUATION** : Also, Jace is one of the nicest guys you could know, and a bit of a pushover.

* * *

PinkFluffyYran

 **Name** : Jamie L. (a.k.a. Kennedy)

 **Age** : 13

 **Gender** : Male

 **Sexuality** : Straight

 **Godly Parent** : Aphrodite

 **Appearance** : Rich Brown hair; kaleidoscopic eyes; about 5'2-1/2"

 **Powers** : Verbal Magic (Charm speak, Spells)

 **Preferred Weapon** : Verbal Incantations (Ex. Evermore, Nevermore; Die a Thousand Deaths [Read "The Unwanteds"]), Slam Poetry (Witty One Liners)

 **Skills** : Sass, Geeky Prowess

 **Personality** : Sassy, Lazy, Quick Witted, Deceiver

 **Backstory** : See TFM101's character

 **Marks** : Scarred Eye, Indent near middle of forehead, Road rash on left knee.

 **Time at CHB** : 59 days

 **Other** : Has a navy-blue eyepatch; Sometimes, Jace will call Jamie "Bear". If anyone other than Jace calls Jamie"Bear", they will wake up in the ER Room. It is a well-earned nickname, as heoutsmarted entirety of Athena Cabin. (Namely  
/AnnabethChase [or

/AnnabethJackson?])

* * *

PinkFluffyYran

 **Side note for Jamie L**.

Has a minor crush on Twyla Zahavyin

Knows a lot of the digits of Pi... lots of them

Has a light tan and often carries a obsidian skull

Has a minor case of ADD

/

* * *

DeadlyHuggles

 **Name** : Elisabeth (she doesn't use her last name anymore)

 **Age** (12-25): 14

 **Gender** : female

 **Sexuality** : more than a tad pansexual

 **Godly Parent:** Athena

 **Mortal Family** : Father, Jamie, step Mom, Lynn, and little sis, Rosie

 **Appearance** (e.g., eye color, hair color, height): 5'11", light blonde hair that she usually wears in a braid, very pale because she burns really easily, and has large gray eyes with hints of blue in them.

 **Powers** (if any): nope only the enhanced IQ of cabin six.

 **Preferred Weapon** : Two twin daggers, one bronze that she named Sofia, and the other silver that she named Luna. She had them specially made by the hephaestus cabin.

 **Skills** : amazing with her dagger, also pretty good at knife throwing.

 **Personality** : mostly kind of introverted and tends to distance herself from people so that she doesn't get hurt, but when the people she tries not to care for are hurt, she goes ballistic and becomes a deadly enemy. She forced herself  
/to grow

up too fast

/when she was ten and had to run away, now her mind is starting to pay the price.

 **Backstory** : her dad remarried when she was four to 'the witch' who made her life miserable. When she was five Rosie was born, giving her a reason to stay. So she did stay, through spiders and the Witch's taunts. But when she was ten some  
/empousaeattacked

her

/house and it burned down. Her family got away but she had to run away for their saftey. She appeared at camp half blood a few months later, but refused to tell anyone what happened to her on her way to camp half blood, or her last name becauseshesaid  
/that using it would bring up too many painful memories.

 **Marks** (Scars, Birthmarks, Tattoos): Small very light scar across her right cheek from the emposae attack, and a small tattoo of an owl in flight carrying a silver dagger at the small of her back.

 **Time At CHB/CJ** : four years 10-14

 **Other** : she hates anyone named Rosie because they remind her of the life she used to have.

* * *

Author196

 **Name** : Twyla Zahavyin

 **Age** : 13

 **Gender** : Female

 **Sexuality** : Straight

 **Godly parent** : Thanatos (originally Hades, changed to fit rules)

 **Mortal Parent** : Gisele Zahavyin

 **Appearance** : Black hair that hose down to the bottom of her rib cage. At the bottom of her chest, her hair turns red. Her hair covers up the left side of her face. Her eyes are green and she has been told they look snake like. She has  
/big bags

under her

/eyes. She is porcelain. She never puts her hair up. She also loves black.

 **Powers** : She can see ghosts and can summon only about five or six undead soldiers at a time. Due to her lack of training, she can only keep it up for three minutes and ends up passing out. So she predicted to fight with her MMA skills  
/and weapon.

 **Preferred Weapon** : Her magic charm bracelet. It has one charm. A sword. The sword has a golden hilt, and a silver or iron blade. It the middle of the hilt is a diamond. By pulling the charm, a life sized version of the sword appears in  
/the air.

By pushing

/the diamond, it becomes a charm again.

 **Skills** : MMA, and star gazing. She is also obsessed with the zodiac signs.

 **Personality** : She is cold, shy, sarcastic, and snappy to the people around her. She tries to scare people off, so that she can get some attention. Because her presence is often ignored. Once she is befriended, she can be funny, kind, and  
/warm.

But, she

/is as stubborn and easy to anger as Olympus is big.

 **Backstory** : At age 9 a hell hound attacked her home. The house was a flame. Gisele threw Twyla to the beast. Twyla's stepbrother Ronnie was killed by the dog a few minutes earlier. By being thrown into the fire, she got a burn on the back  
/of

her neck.

/She got away, and lived on the streets until a Satyr found her. She is now afraid of fire and hell hounds. She doesn't want to tell people about her abusive stepmom.

 **Marks** : A burn mark on the back of her neck. Her hair hides it.

 **Time at CHB** : 3 years.

 **Other** : She never wants to date. She's fine wit friend boys, but never ever wants to date one.

* * *

VelocityRaptor

 **Name** : Callista Snow

 **Age** : 17

 **Gender** : Female

 **Sexuality** : Straight

 **Godly parent** : Khione

 **Mortal Family** : Her father, Sgt Alex Snow, is a former Marine turned drunk and abusive guy (mania)

 **Appearance** : Callista has pale skin, shoulder length wavy white hair, and icy blue eyes. She stands around 5'8 in height, and is described to look pretty athletic.

 **Powers** : Spontaneously freeze things, create ice daggers and big snow storms, though she can't really control her powers.

 **Preferred weapon** : Two celestial bronze rings that can either become Greek battle swords or Desert Eagles, both gifts from her mother.

 **Personality** : She's initially shown to be an introvert. Callista is quiet and cold around her peers. Despite that, she is a loyal and fierce friend to have around. Deep down, she suffers the trauma of being abused by her father for supposedly  
/being

/the reason Khione left him.

 **Backstory** : Callista was the result of an affair between Marine Sgt. Alex Snow and the goddess Khione. When she was half a year old, her mother left, causing her father to go on a downward spiral of alcohol and abuse all her life. One  
/day, when

she

/was 13, in the middle of being beaten by her father, a Laistrygonian breaks into their house and prepares to kill her father. Callista desperately tries to save him, but the ice dagger she shoots kills him instead of the cannibal. Overcome with

grief,

/Callista inadvertedly creates a storm of ice daggers that kill the Laistrygonian. She runs away, struggling to survive with basic military training.

 **Marks** : She has scars all over her body, from knife wounds, to whipping wounds, to even burns.

 **Time at CHB/CJ** : Half a year in Camp Half Blood

* * *

 _This is where I gave up on going through and bolding the form part of your submissions._

* * *

Hippi bookworm

Name: Gunnar Wagoner

Age: 14

Gender: Male

Sexuality: straight

Godly parent: Demeter and is a legacy of Ares

Mortal Family: only child and his father is dead. Never sees his aunt.

Appearance: 5ft 6in dark brown shaggy hair that hangs just past his ears. Hazel eyes. Very tan and slightly larger then normal ears.

Powers: Not much of a power but in battle he is capable of going in to a blind rage where he will destroy every thing in his path when this is done he completely drained of energy. This is a last resort and he will do what ever it takes to avoid it.  
/Preferred

/weapon: bronze cuff that becomes a battle axe.

Skills: green thumb, good with his axe, and a wonderful liar.

Personality: super distrustful. Terrified of of goats and goat related creatures. Understanding and is fairly cool headed. Back story: Grew up on a farm in Missouri where he was bitten by a goat when he was 4. His father died in a accident with a

tractor

/when he was ten. He lived with his aunt until he was 11 when she brought him to camp half blood.

Marks: goat bite on left thumb.

Time at camp: three years summer and winter.

* * *

lucario0406

Name: Ashton Short

Age (12-25):19

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight as straight can be Godly Parent:Hephestus

Mortal Family: Mom named Sophie and step dad named Joe

Appearance (e.g., eye color, hair color, height) VeryVery Dark Blonde, Firey teal eyes if that makes sense, and is 6'2", and lean and thin.

Powers (if any):powers only fire wielder Preferred Weapon: Fire (duh), Ancient encrusted bow and arrows, And a ball that transforms between a longsword and dagger.

Skills:Cooking, Tech knowlage, and can fix things.

Personality: Funny, Comeadic, Makes sitiuations better, Not telling people the past, Flirter, Try's to be romantic, and does most of the cleaning

Backstory: Ran away when he was 12 (at age 17 reunites with his family). He knew he was a demigod and his powers and didnt want to harm them. He lived on the street for a little bit. Everything else he keeps to himself.

Marks (Scars, Birthmarks, Tattoos): Hastwo tattoos one on his arm that is a bow and arrow and a fireball that says freedom.

Time At CHB/CJ: He switches between both CHB:2 yrs. CJ:3yrs.

Other: N/A

* * *

MissPurple1234

Name: Cara Stewart

Age (12-25): 14 years old

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Godly Parent: Hecate

Mortal Family: Dave Stewart

Appearance (e.g., eye color, hair color, height): Dark blue eyes with a hit of purple in it, dark brown hair, almost black which arrives at her shoulders, 5'4 for her height.

Powers (if any): The Mist

Preferred Weapon: Two Katannas with Celestial Bronze blades and its handle twisted to form a little symbol in Chinese

Skills: Battle body-to-body, martial arts, backflips, stuff like that, flexibility

Personality: Sadic, but cares about her friends. Optimistic, in a bad situation, she can light up the mood of others. She's the one who you can talk to with your problems. She has anger issues, but it's rare, but when it comes, she can say and do

something

/she would never do, but else, she's almost always in a good mood.

Backstory: Cara has a Chinses Heritage. Her father trained her, telling her that the legacy has to go on. Even if her father dragged her into this, he was a good father and never abused her. Only, when she got one of her anger issues, she killed him.  
/Later, a demigod saved her life by dying by the cyclop. He/She told her to search for CHB and Cara made her own weapons with the Celestion bronze from the blade of the demigod.

Marks (Scars, Birthmarks, Tattoos): She got a little scar on her waist while the fight with the cyclop. She has a tattoo of a phoenix on her back, because she thinks it's the best mythic creature.

Time At CHB/CJ: 2 years

Other: People asked her often why she's always in a happy mood. Her answers are always relatable and never "nowhere" like "Because I like unicorns!" Also, she can combinate well her skills with her power, like she can make her oppenent(s) think she  
/has

/eight arms with each one katanna, while she only has one, so it creates confusion and fear at her opponent.

* * *

Your Lord And Savior Arceus

Name: Faye Lancashire

Age (12-25): 17

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Godly Parent: Mercury

Mortal Family: Her mother is a former centurion at Camp Jupiter, however long retired. She now lives in San Jose and rarely sees anything of her daughter. Though a legacy of Mars, none of the war god's traits were passed down to Faye.

Appearance (e.g., eye color, hair color, height): 5'7, dark brown eyes that may almost look black. Her hair is black, even straighter than her orientation, and just is below shoulder length. Ivory-ish skin. Quite a thin build, which can lead to frailness,  
/but also speed.

Powers (if any): No particular powers, however she inherited the traits of her father like many children of Hermes/Mercury. Listed in skills.

Preferred Weapon: Imperial gold throwing knives (dual-wielded)

Skills: Her lithe build helps her to maneuver faster, as well as to move with near soundlessness if she's trying. A fairly good thief. She is able to throw her knives with acceptable accuracy provided the target is close enough.

Personality: She'll do whatever she can to achieve her goals, and has very few moral standards. Faye doesn't often think through things before she says them, which leads to issues with her peers. She takes things quite seriously- as such, jokes and  
/puns

will take a second for her to understand if they don't fly right over her head.

Likes- People useful to her, getting away with doing wrong, and gaining favor with her superiors.

Dislikes- Luck-based tasks or games, being humiliated or shown up, and not knowing things she finds important or interesting (motives, plans, secrets)

Backstory: Faye had a very strict upbringing. As her mother was a centurion and veteran of CJ, she began training earlier than most, at nine. Monsters began stalking her at thirteen, prompting her mother to send a clueless Faye to the Wolf House with  
/letters of recommendation. She was accepted into the Third Cohort, and served for three years.

Faye has British and Italian roots, dating back as far as the Roman occupation.

Marks (Scars, Birthmarks, Tattoos): Numerous scars from sword marks, however most are not visible. The only visible one can be see around her collarbone as a white stretch of skin.

Time At CHB/CJ: Three years at CJ (14-17. One year prior was spent prepping/traveling/ Wolf House)

* * *

Eclipse678

Name: Thea Jones

Age:16

Gender: female

sexuality: Straight

Godly Parent: Aphrodite

Mortal Family: Her father is a journalist in new york and met Aphrodite because he has the ability to look through the mist. Appearance: hieght is 5'8 Light wavy brown hair, carribean aqua eyes, she has a build for stealth an speed.

Powers: she can charm speak and change her appearance.

Preferred Weapon: Thea's preferred weapon is a celestial bronze dagger gifted from her mother.

Personality: Shes a very kind hearted person but she is also very feirce and competitive at times and will never back down from a fight. Unlike most Aphrodite children she preferres wearing dark colours.

Back story; Thea was born and raised in Manhattan, her father died in a fire when she was 9 and continued to be raised by her step mother Amber but Thea feeling unwanted ran away a year later then ended up at camp halfblood brought by a satyr. Thea  
/was also taught three languages growing up, Latin, Russian and Spanish since shehasroots from Spain.

Marks; she has a white scar from her right temple curved to her cheek. She has a brun mark on her waist from the fire that killed her father.

time at CHB: Thea has spent 6 years in CHB

* * *

Guest

Name:

Josephine Hart (formerly Joseph Hart)

Age (12-25):

17

Gender:

Female (transgender, born male)

Sexuality:

Lesbian

Godly Parent:

Dionysus

Mortal Family:

Parents- Angela and Perry Hart, alive

Siblings- twins Erin and Michael, ten, alive

Appearance (e.g., eye color, hair color, height):

Average height, dark chestnut hair, long straight hair, green eyes flecked with brown, fairly pale, small freckles all over body, usually wears hair in ponytail

Powers (if any):

Can induce madness to a certain degree (make people have hallucinations or hear voices)

Preferred Weapon:

Celestial bronze sword w/ hilt wrapped in brown and green, two small throwing daggers that she can call back to her if they're close enough

Skills:

Very fast, skilled with sword, very good at throwing knives

Personality:

Sarcastic, quiet, cynical, sad, short temper. Struggles with depression

Backstory:

parents were very homophobic and transphobic, so they threw Josie out when she came out at 14, lived on the streets for six months until taken to camp

Marks (Scars, Birthmarks, Tattoos):

tattoo of a rainbow heart on her right wrist (left handed) to remind her both of her family and that they shouldn't influence her. Got it sort of ironically

Time At CHB/CJ:

3 years

Other:

Has an orange fluffy cat named Crookshanks

* * *

Guest

Name: Melody Signe

Age (12-25): 14

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Asexual

Godly Parent: Iris

Mortal Family: Raised by her single mother, Faith Signe, who is an art teacher at a Elementary school in Sacramento, California. With her a tabby cat named, Chaser, and a husky dog named, Violet. Her mother's parents died on a boat when her mother was  
/18 leaving her and her brother, Damien Signe alone. Damien is a lawyer living in Idaho and frequently visits his sister and niece.

Appearance (e.g., eye color, hair color, height): has Wavy caramel hair, waist length, and cobalt eyes with a hint of brown. Pale and lean, 5"4 in height.

Powers (if any): can use virtuakinesis, currently only able to make small illusions ( the biggest being a person) and they last until she wills them to disappear or is to tired to keep the illusion.

Preferred Weapon: A long bow and a pocket knife

Skills: Can be very convincing (to get what she wants or to lie), flexible, good with animals

Personality: Shy and meek, isn't very confident in herself, loyal to those she truly trusts, friendly when she knows you better, likes to beat herself up inside.

Backstory: Lived a normal, albeit rather lonely, life. No friends just acquaintances that she hung out with from time to time when not at the library or with her mom and/or uncle. Was cyber bullyed for a year or two in elementary and believed every word  
/they said about her, leading up to her cutting herself. Was found by a monster (harpy) a few days before her 13th birthday and ended up stabbing it with a pocket knife given to her by her uncle 'just in case'. After joining Camp Half-Blood after being  
/claimed by Iris became very close to Kayla (of the Apollo cabin) who treated her like a younger sister.

Marks (Scars, Birthmarks, Tattoos): scars riddled along her wrists and lower arm from self harm. A scar along her lower back that she won't tell where it came from. A well as a few scattered scars on her thighs. A star tattoo colored in the asexual colors  
/(black, gray, white, and purple) on the left side of her stomach.

Time At CHB/CJ: 1 1/2 years

Other: Almost always wears a hoodie (has one of every color of the rainbow), to hid the scars if nothing else but, contrasts that by wearing blue short shorts often. Very uncomfortable in large crowds and inclusive. Always carries colored and regular  
/pencils. Will start randomly doodling if bored. Loves music, reading(only being able to read picture books completely) and coloring. Usually has to be talked into doing things. Very trusting of authority figures and elder people in general. Has to  
/be talked out of listen to others and into thinking for her self. Is rather OCD. Really wants to have close friends but isn't sure how to make that happen. Adores her cat and dog, Chaser and Violet as well as her mother. Is treated like a small child  
/most of the time by her piers but is very cabable of taking care of herself.

/


	4. Jace I

**(Hi! I'm here with Chapter 1. If you guys could leave a comment saying who you want me to pair together, that would be helpful. I've never written romance before, so... yeah. Wish me luck! I've edited this from the original, so most errors should be out. On with the story!)**

 **JACE WAS PRETTY SURE HIS HEAD WAS GOING TO EXPLODE**. He was already in a bit of a nauseous state when the red-eyed dogs showed up in his school, and running for nearly 30 minutes straight definitely wasn't helping. His dirty-blonde hair clung to his forehead with beads of perspiration, sweat trailing down his nose and dripping to the ground like honey. He could no longer hear the dogs running behind him, but after the first few times he had realized that they probably were still there, just a few feet further away and that the best idea was to keep running.

His legs hurt more than what he knew was possible and his arms, still clench-ing a small but sharp tree branch, ached with pain. The cut on his shoulder from one of the dogs' claws stung. From his experience with cuts, it was shallow and not very serious (probably wouldn't even scar), but it still hurt like Hades.

 _Hades._ Jace stopped in his tracks. Since when did he know who Hades was? And why did his cut hurt like him? Jace distantly recognized the name from when he studied Greece in the fifth grade, but he couldn't recall what this 'Hades' did.

Whatever, he was Mormon. It's not like he would ever need the name in the future... right?

His thoughts were interrupted by a paw swinging at him. "Crap!" He yelled, whacking the beast in the nose with his branch out of reflex. (Woah, that was a lot of prepositions.) The dog stumbled back and did the thing dogs do where they stoop really low and put their paw on their muzzle. Eyes wide, Jace called, "Sorry!" as he turned away from the situation, legs moving before he even thought of it.

 _Run,_ his brain seemed to urge, _Run, faster._

Panting, Jace felt his legs try to give out. He knew he should've taken Gym class! If only Coach Melissa wasn't so rude...

Jace observed his surroundings. He had less than 30 seconds to decide what to do, and as running was getting him nowhere (figuratively, of course), he had to find some place to hide.

Hmm, if you're in a really thick forest and running from dogs...

He hopped up the tree just as the beasts entered the woods. They paused for a moment, confused. One dog stuck his nose up in the air, and Jace hurriedly applied the hand sanitizer from his pocket that all student were required to have. The smell was of gingerbread, strong and over-whelmingly unrealistic. He thanked God for having gotten the really strong smelling one.

The beast put his nose down, slobber dripping down his face. With a final look around, he howled and tramped away, the pack following suit. Even when they were completely out of view, Jace stayed hidden, keeping his breathing calm. He waited a full ten

minutes in that tree, watching and waiting for the beasts to return. They didn't.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Jace allowed himself to slump down. What just happened? First, he was at school, and the next thing he knew the fire alarm was ringing and sprinklers going off above his head, with glowing red eyes staring at him from the broken window. Then, fear took control, and he ran.

"Crazy day, huh?" Said a voice from behind him. Jace muttered back absentmindedly, "Tell me about it."

Wait. Hold on. What? Jace spun around, ripped jacket flying as he held up his branch defensively. "Who's there?" He said, trying to sound more confident than he was. "Come out! I know you're here!" He was pretty sure his voice was shaking.

"Woah, dude, calm down," muttered the voice from the shadows. "And be quiet, you're going to attract... _unwanted_ attention."

Upon hearing the voice, Jace lowered his branch. He knew that voice. Other than Jamie, he was the only friend he had. "Bush?" He spoke after a few long seconds, confusion lacing his voice, "What are you doing here?"

The boy of topic scooted out from under the shadows, and Jace caught his face. "Bush," he repeated, more confident this time, "What is going on?"

Bush shifted nervously, brown eyes darting back and forth. "We need to go," he said finally, shooting Jace a look. "Jace, we really need to go."

Hearing the urgency in his tone, Jace nodded numbly. "Where?" He asked slowly as he swung down. "Why?"

"All will be explained in due time, Jace. Just, for now, follow along and try to keep up. I promise it'll all make sense soon. Just...come on." And with that, he hopped down from the tree like a mountain goat.

"Hold up!" Called Jace, sliding down. Bush kept running. "Hey," he panted as he caught up, "Where are your crutches? Where are you taking me?"

Bush responded by tearing off his pants.

"Bush, what–" Jace stopped dead in his tracks. "Are those... are those... _donkey_ legs?"

Bush bleated unhappily as he slowed to a stop. "Goat legs," he cried, "How do they even look like a donkey's?"

Blushing, Jace tried to apologize. "Bush, I'm so-" Said goat cut him off. "Nah, man, it's fine. We really do need to get moving, though. Or we'll miss our flight."

"Our flight?" Jace repeated, flabber-gasted. "I don't even have a ticket!"

"Jace," breathed Bush, hands on his shoulders. Jace's cut stung. When did he get so close? "Jace, do you trust me?"

Grey eyes met brown. In Bush's eyes, Jace could see an ocean of emotion. Fear and hope swam tantalizing through waves of amber, but there was one emotion that stood out to Jace.

Trust.

Jace nodded feebly, letting a weak smile come to his face. "Yeah," he said, "Yeah, I trust you."

Bush smiled. "Good," he assured, "Then follow me." And then he bolted.

Frowning, Jace slouched and exhaled, before running to catch up.

Jace was pretty sure he was seeing a hologram right now. How else could pegasi exist?

But that didn't explain how Bush was sitting on one. Maybe he could fly? Jace didn't know why that seemed a more realistic option than pegasi existing, but it did. His friend (who had the name of a shrub) was sitting on a make-believe horse and, as it turns out, was part donkey! (Goat, he reminded himself, part goat.)

When did Jace's life get so weird?

Anyways, the two pegasi (that felt weird to think) were shuffling nervously, whinnying every now and then. "C'mon," pried Bush, "Just get on the horse!"

"No," Jace insisted, "I'm not going to."

"Please? For me?"

"No."

Jace had a flashback to a time when he was seven. His little brother, Jamie, was riding a horse at their grandpa's ranch. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to let a five-year-old ride a horse on his own, but they weren't the smartest back then. Their older step-brothers, who were watching as they drank beer and sat in lawn chairs, clapped drunkenly for Jamie.

Apparently, that horse had been raised by a different rancher who had different signals, and apparently, clapping was the one for "speed up". _Whoosh_! Jamie screamed as the horse took off, gripping the reigns like they were a lifeline—which, at that point, they were. Still, it was not enough, as Jamie fell off rather quickly. The scary part? His hand was still tangled in the reigns.

"Help!" He had called, pain lacing his voice. His knee dragged along the road, blood trails visible every few meters. "Space Ace!" Seven-year-old Jace jumped to attention, running toward the horse. "Stop!" He called, trying he remember what the signal was for stop. Suddenly, it came to mind and he imitated the sound of a whistle. The horse froze. Untangling his brother, Jace had held him in his arms, yelling for Grandpa. He remembered not much more, just an ambulance arriving and sobbing into Grandma's chest, scared. Jamie's road rash was never fully healed.

"Jace? Jace!" He was shaken out of his thoughts by an exasperated goat. "Sorry," Jace apologized sincerely. "I–" He started, but Bush intervened. "No time for that!" He said, practically pushing Jace toward the winged horses. "They're just behind us," he cried. "I have almost all of you! I can't lose one of you, not yet, not now!"

"Bush!" Jace reprimanded, "What are you talking about?!"

Said goat shook his head. "No, it doesn't matter. Just... get on the pegasus, okay?" Jace was about to refuse when he saw Bush's pleading look. His resolve crumbling, Jace sighed. "Fine," he muttered, "But you must have a really good explanation after this."

And with that, he pushed himself up to the pegasus's height, sat down, and grabbed the reigns. From the corner of his eye, he saw more of the dogs bounding towards him, but he ignored them. Closing his eyes, he inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.

"Let's do this."

Jace was pretty sure horses weren't aerodynamic, but _dang_ , they were good flyers.

Clutching the pegasus's short white fur in his hands (having long since discarded the reigns), feeling the air rustle through his hair... it was perfect. He felt like the only thing that mattered was him, right then, right now. The world was on mute while he was top volume, and the remote was nowhere to be seen.

"This is awesome~!" He yelled into the open air, giving a 'whoop~!' as the pegasus swooped down, elegant wings flapping in the wind.

"I know, right?" Bush bleated back, "How could anyone not like this?"

"I don't know!" Jace called, before instructing his pegasus to go closer to the goat-man. "So, you have some explaining to do," Jace told him, "Specifically, what the heck is going on?"

Bush scratched his neck. "Um, about that– LOOK OUT!" Jace swooped almost immediately to dodge what appeared to be small, metallic birds. As they got closer, an annoying sound almost like buzzing filled the air.

"Ugh," Jace frowned, one hand on his head. "What is that?"

Bush grimaced. "That, my friend, are stymphalian birds."

Jace recalled the birds distantly from fifth grade. They were a type of monster released from Pandora's Jar, right? He voiced his thoughts to his goat-mate.

Bush winced as he dodged a flurry of silver. "Um," he murmured unhelpfully, "Kinda-sorta. And it wasn't really a jar, it was more of a box..." Bush clicked his tongue frantically.

"I only brought my reed pipes," he explains, "And I'm a little bit— Gah! — busy right now. So our best bet is to run away."

"Running away is good," admits Jace, not wanting to die from the wicked birds; he could see it now:

IN LOVING MEMORY OF

JACE A. LAMBERT

BROTHER, FRIEND, SON

DEATH BY HAVING EYES

POKED OUT BY BIRDS WHILE

HALLUCINATING OF

WINGED HORSES

WILL BE MISSED BY MANY

Oh, they joys of imagination.

"Let's fly," called Bush as he avoided what seemed to be pellet in the shape of a feather. Jace rushed forward, not wasting any time. Several of the birds were knocked out of the air as he flew through the flocks. "Sorry!" He yelled sincerely as he watched them fall to earth, but was forced to continue on his way.

The air was thick around him, and Jace felt strangely excluded, even though there was nothing to be left out of. He wanted to fight! He wanted to get away! He wanted to decide which he wanted!

Looking down for anything he could use as weapon, his tree branch somewhere on the forest floor, Jace caught sight of his necklace. A bunch of Legos hung from the thick brown shoe lace, double knotted at the back of his neck. An idea formulating in his brain, Jace tore off the necklace (which seemed a whole lot easier in movies), careful to keep the Legos on the lace.

The necklace had been made by Jamie, and ever since it had been given to him, Jace treasured it; but he kinda treasured his life a little bit more than the birthday present.

Sliding off about five small Legos, Jace held his breath, waiting for the perfect now... Not now... NOW– wait, scratch that, Not now... Not– NOW!

Jace through the Legos at the birds with more force than he thought was possible. _Clang_. They hit the stymphalians harshly, and with a whoosh of air the birds fell to the ground below.

Jace couldn't help the apology that escaped histhroat. "I'm sorry!"

"What for? You're doing great, Jace!" Jace didn't bother to correct his friend. Instead, he stammered, "Uh, sorry," but Bush didn't seem to hear.

"We're almost to Camp!" He yelled, "Just a few more miles!" Jace was surprised. It seemed like they'd only been flying for an hour, and from where Bush mentioned the supposed "Camp" was, he was pretty sure it would take longer to get from Ossowa, Canada to Long Island Sound.

Jace shrugged it off. Oh well. It must be the author not wanting to write more than a few minutes worth of words.

"Full speed ahead!" called Bush, his pegasus speeding up considerably. Jace instructed his horse to do the same.

 _Woah!_ He was pretty sure the skin on his cheeks were stretching from his muscle. (Do mouths have muscle? They must, right? How else would they move?) They were going so fast! There were definitely flames behind him, he was so quick. He wanted to smile, but the air pressure prevented him.

"Dive~!" yelled Bush, "Camp is below~!"

Jace tugged the reigns and the horse fell into a downward position. "Ahh!" he screeched, closing his eyes. It felt like he was diving. The horses whinnied in fear, and suddenly, he was free falling.

Darn horses bucked him off mid-air.

The atmosphere whooshed around him, and he felt it change, just slightly. The Sun seemed to shine a little bit brighter, and a small, cool breeze blew by, keeping it from being too hot, in comparison to the windy, bitter weather it had been in both Canada and the U.S. for the past week.

Jace kept falling, the pegasi having long since flown away.

 _Splash_!

He felt himself go underwater, small bubbles rising up around him. It seemed like he was floating in cloud of cotton, fuzz stuffed into his brain, a strange sense of euphoria buzzing in his ear.

He came up, gasping for oxygen.

Someone was pulling him out, and he had no choice but to go along. Air flooded into his air pipes, and he welcomed the freshness readily. Someone hung a towel over his shoulders. Coughing once, twice, he looked up.

"Hello, and welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Jace Lambert, Son of Hephaestus."

 **Hello! It's me. I've avoided you forever while consuming calories...**

 **Oh, is that not how it goes? Whoops. My bad.**

 **First chapter is up! Don't forget to comment your preferred pairing.**

 **Buh-Bye, my lovely... Oh, and I need something to call you guys! Anywho, Buh-Bye!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Judy Rusher, Slayer of the Chimera, Unclaimed**


	5. Elisabeth II

**ELISABETH WAS FAIRLY CERTAIN** that her day couldn't get any worse. First, a spider appeared right next to her bunk, long and hairy with a large abdomen. Then, her half-sister, Annabeth, had a panic attack because of said spider, and when Elisabeth tried to calm her down, she was nearly impaled. Annabeth had apologized profusely afterwards, but Elisabeth was still grumbling to herself. Finally (and this one takes the prize), Bush the satyr and a strange boy comes crashing into the river while she's canoeing.

Not cool, Bush.

Elisabeth supposed she should've suspected a bad day; after all, her week was unnaturally good and it was only logical to assume that a bad day was coming. Some daughter of Athena she was.

When the water came splashing from beneath her, she was drenched from head to toe. Malcolm, her cabin mate, spluttered at first but then jumped to attention—literally. He jumped underwater. While she watched as bubbles rose around him, a tug began at her wrist. She looked down, having just enough time to plug her nose before Malcolm pulled her under.

She tried to yell at him, but seeing as she was beneath the surface, she settled for a glare. Malcolm flinched back slightly but jerked his head toward the sinking demigod and satyr. With a start, she realized she needed to save them. Malcolm couldn't handle both.

So she gave a determined nod and dove deeper.

The closest one to her was the demigod, so she aimed for him. It was too dark to tell his features, but she could see him struggling. Ignoring this, she gently pulled him upwards. The tide seemed to be lifting them, and she briefly wondered if Percy Jackson was helping them.

But she dismissed the thought immediately. Percy Jackson had died while protecting Annabeth from a fatal Hydra strike.

After what seemed like minutes, they broke surface. She gasped for air, her legs like boiled spaghetti. The boy heaved, coughing up water and a little bit of blood. His hair was superglued against his head, liquid dripping down his thin face. She tried to pull him closer to shore, but he resisted, his legs kicking every which direction. She growled, pulling with more force—enough to be noticeable. This time he followed along, and she hauled him up to land, letting him rest next to the coast.

With shaking legs, she stood and walked further on shore, ignoring how her wet feet collected grass like a magnet. She reluctantly accepted the towel handed to her, trying to avoid all the eyes trained on her. She was an introvert for a reason; being watched made her uncomfortable. It reminded her of her step-mom, watching with a smirk as Elisabeth fended off the spiders and the taunts.

Annabeth stepped forward, grey eyes dull and empty. Her voice was cold and sad as she spoke for the second time that week, all joy faded, "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Jace Lambert, son of Hephaestus."

Sure enough, a glowing hologram of a hammer and anvil circled above his head, flickering with ghostly orange light. His hair, which she assumed would be dirty blonde if not wet, was plastered against his forehead, a confused frown likewise on his face.

He tried to follow everyone's gaze to atop his head, but couldn't link it as everyone had started kneeling, heads downward. It wasn't nessacary to kneel (Genuflect, her mind corrected), but it was a courtesy.

She gently lowered herself to the ground, catching his eyes briefly. Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were a unique shade of grey; not stormy like Annabeth's or even slate like Malcolm's (who had made it to shore with Bush). They were bright and lively, like a lake at dawn. They glistened and sparkled in the sun, like a diamond in the sky.

Then she shifted her gaze to the floor, a heavy blush floating to her cheeks and neck.

Thoughts whirled in her head like a tornado. Grey eyes were unusual for Hephaestus, but not unheard of. Besides, children didn't always have their godly parent's eye color. Hers were grey, but spotted with her fathers shimmering blue. Kendra Gilliam, another half-sister, had brown mixed in with hers (which may sound strange, but was actually quite stunning). She sincerely hoped that he wasn't misclaimed (which happened surprisingly often), but she doubted it. He had the Hephaestus look to him, with long, thin fingers.

She shook her head to get rid of any thoughts. She didn't have time for love. Love was puny. She would've joined the hunters of Artemis if she didn't dislike the fourth-in-command, Rosie Grownin. She wasn't even rude, Rosie; but the name made her scowl as she thought of what she once had. She could never join the Hunt unless that Rosie was dead or turned into a jackalope.

She supposed it was a bit unfair to wish that Rosie was a jackalope. Rosie had never done anything to her. In fact, Rosie was her life; the only reason she hadn't come to camp long ago. Rosie, with her long brown hair and crystal clear blue eyes, was the brightest star in Elisabeth's life— the only star, actually. All the others had been dimmed by pollution.

With a start, she realized everyone else had already stood up and begun to disperse. She jerked up, her head similar to a cherry, and started to quickly walk away. But then she felt a cool hand on her shoulder. She turned. Annabeth stood there, her blonde hair long and beautiful, but it was thin and feathery nowadays. Her eyes had bags beneath them, tired and wary, and her skin had become pale (accentuating the freckles on her nose).

Elisabeth felt herself blush harder. Annabeth had always been attractive, even after she was affected by Percy's death. She knew she could never date her half-sister, though, so those thoughts were quickly dismissed.

"You need to show Jace around camp. Mr. D is up on Olympus and Chiron is dealing with the lava wall," Annabeth murmured, lost in thought. Elisabeth nodded, realizing that her sister was about to have another panic attack. As much as she cared for her, Elisabeth did not want to get almost impaled again.

Walking away swiftly toward Jace, who was looking around with confusion, she took in his appearance. He was shorter than her (Ha!) by about 3 inches, despite him looking slightly older. Now that his hair had dried slightly, she could tell it was the dirty blonde she had guessed. His face was thin, and his body likewise, but it went well with him. His cheeks were almost as red as hers, and he had incredibly pronounced collar bones.

She purposely avoided his eyes, instead looking right above them. She wanted to look intimidating, but was hard. The boy was like a lost puppy. She settled for glaring into the air right above him.

"Elisabeth," she said stoutly, not offering her hand. She stuck her nose up in the air in an attempt to cover her shyness with snobbiness, but he seemed to either not notice or not care.

"Jace," he introduced, scrambling after her. He hugged his towel closer to his shoulders. "Jace Lambert." He had a slight stutter, Elisabeth noted. It was actually quite cute.

She kept walking.

"So, uh," he tried, "Where are we?" She didn't bother to look at him.

"Camp Half-Blood."

"Yeah, but, what is it?"

"A camp for half-bloods."

He sighed. "What's a half-blood?"

"Half-human, half-god."

"God?" Jace seemed to perk up. "But, he doesn't..."

Elisabeth clicked her tongue. "Wrong god, genius."

She turned her head slightly to see his confused face. "There are multiple gods? No. There's only one!"

She tried to hide her wince. "That's a different matter altogether. Just listen, okay?" She spun around to face him.

"The gods are real. The Greek gods. You know, the ones you learned about but didn't pay attention to? Well, they don't pay attention to you, either, especially if you're their kid. The gods have... godly things to do. Godly places they need to see. Godly plans they need to make— that don't include me or you." She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Seeing his confused look, she continued. "You heard me. The gods are real, and they have kids. We're those kids." She motioned around her.

"They never keep their promises, either. You're the twenty-third person in the last three months to arrive at Camp late. How old are you, fifteen? Sixteen? You're supposed to arrive when you're thirteen, as of two years ago."

He still looked uncomfortable. "So, my parents are Greek gods?"

She shook her head. "Parent. Singular. Your dad is Hephaestus."

He looked like he was thinking. "He's the god of... blacksmiths, right? Forging, fire, stuff like that?"

She nodded. "Good. You're catching on quickly. How are you taking it so well?"

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I'm not. I'm freaking out inside. My calm exterior is just icing on the cake." Elisabeth let out a quiet laugh. Maybe today wouldn't be as bad as she thought.

"You're funny. Follow me, I'll show you to the Hephaestus cabin."

The Hephaestus cabin was busier than Elisabeth had ever seen it. Jake, who had healed from all his wounds months ago, was tinkering with a wind-up toy. Leo Valdez was making a working helicopter out of straw and rubber bands. Nyssa was carving wood expertly into the shape of a pegasus. Ashton Short was delicately molding a metal pipe to a bronze bunny.

"Ashton!" Elisabeth called over the ruckus, "Come here!" He lifted up his goggles, revealing two blue-ish eyes that looked like blue fire. Elisabeth tried not to blush.

Ashton, despite his last name, was tall. He had to such under the door frame to reach the porch. He had blonde hair, messy and sweat-mixed, but it only made him more attractive. He was muscular and handsome, and it made Elisabeth's heart flutter every time he smiled.

"This," she stammered, avoiding his gaze, "Is Jace Lambert. He's your half-brother."

She turned to Jace. "Jace, this is Ashton. He's also a son of Hephaestus. You'll be sticking with him till you get a hang of things."

Ashton grinned cheekily. "Awesome. Come inside, if you dare." Elisabeth watched as Jace gave her a final look, biting his lip, before turning around and entering the cabin. Ashton winked at her before closing the door.

She sighed, stepping into the grass. Someone walked up behind her, and she didn't have to look to see who it was. "We just need a few more months, and then we'll be good," Bush the satyr said, licking his lips. His fur was damp. "Yeah," she agreed, still staring down the cabin. The next few words slipped from her tongue like milk. "If we make it that long."

 **Sincerely,**

 **Judy Rusher, Slayer of the Chimera, Unclaimed**


	6. Jamie III

**THE GIRL IN BLACK WAS** beginning to scare Jamie.

Jamie was never frightened easily. When he was younger, the only time he truly remembered being frightened was the dreadful horse incident. Other that, nothing. While the other kids screamed at the wasp nest found in the classroom's closet, he would calmly step into the hallway. While his brother, Jace, would be cornered against the bed frame in fear, Jamie would just flick the spider away and carry on. Every memory that involved Jamie and other kids was never a scary one.

So why did she freak him out so much?

For starters, her eyes. They were a poisonous green, slitted like a snake's. He could stare at them for hours and hours on end, he was sure, and never once find an emotion. They were blank and lifeless like a doll's, the only sign of life being the venom swirling in them.

Next was her hair. It was shiny and smooth, free of tangles. It was long and dark, turning red at the ribcage. Jamie thought that the contrasting colors of her hair and eyes would look awful, but she never ceased to surprise him.

She was dangerous and fierce, and the only thing he ever saw her in was a black wool turtleneck with dark ripped skinny jeans. He found that a little bit weird, seeing as she had been going to his school for a few weeks now. He wondered if she could afford other clothes, but quickly dismissed that thought. The golden-jilted sword charm on her bracelet said otherwise.

He couldn't help but feel romantically attracted to her. She was beautiful (despite her dark past).

One night, he had a dream. They were in a large grey house, covered with dim lights and candles casting a soft red glow on the wooded floors. Crickets hummed with melancholy from outside. Then it zoomed in, showing an active scene of Jamie and her doing...  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"something.

"Twyla," dream him asked, "What color should I paint this macaroon?" Twyla laughed, something he could never see the real her doing. "Oh, Jamie! You're so funny!"

Then she lent in. Her eyes squeezed shut and her lips puckered, the eerie glow of the room just enhancing her beauty. He lent in, and they were so close he could feel her warm breath against his neck, soft and heavenly. Just as he was about to close his eyes, she jerked back.

Her mouth opened in a wide 'O'. Her eyes nearly popped out their sockets. Frogs poured out, croaking and laughing at him. They squeezed past her eyes, laying on the carpet, melting together in a puddle of molten goop. It bubbled and grew as more frogs came out.

He was never afraid of frogs, but his natural instinct was to curl away in disgust.

Then, he woke up.

He couldn't look at her straight since.

He tried to look it up on dream dictionary using his older brother's phone. For some reason, Jace (his other brother) and him didn't have phones. Jamie shrugged it off as a money thing.

At the thought of Jace, Jamie couldn't help the pang of sadness in his stomach. His brother had been missing for about a month now, after setting off the school's fire alarms and breaking the window. Naturally, Jamie knew that wasn't the full story. It  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"couldn'tbe. Jamie knew his brother, his goody-two-shoes brother, and he would _never_ do something like that.

At least, not on purpose.

There were many theories Jamie had thought of. Maybe he was sleepwalking? Had a panic attack? Was blackmailed? Those all seemed too silly, too unrealistic, though, so Jamie knew otherwise. He knew what had _really_  
style="font-size: 16pt;"happened.

Jace had been attacked.

By what, Jamie wasn't sure. There were hundreds of things that could be hostile towards Jace. It probably wasn't anyone at the school, because as far as Jamie knew, Jace was well liked across the staff and students. He was somewhat attractive and somewhat smart, making him rather likeable.

As much as Jamie hated to admit it, he was somewhat jealous of Jace growing up. He had gotten the looks and the kindness, a far contrast to Jamie's pirate-like face and bitter demeanor. He was constantly being flirted on by girls, while Jamie was being being picked on by them. He hated his jealousy, but it came with life, and Jamie was forced to accept it and move on.

Something he was unable to do with the concept of his brother being MIA.

Slamming shut his locker door, he observed himself in the cold blue metal. A navy eyepatch concealed one eye, his brown hair soft and barely covering the small dent in his forehead. He tried to keep his face passive. If it weren't for the dent and eyepatch, he would've been attractive,  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"handsome even. Instead, he somehow managed to be one of the ugliest people Jamie had ever seen—and that was saying a lot, considering he had seen many ugly people in his life.

The warning bell rang and Jamie slammed the locker door shut, his image distorted in the cold blue metal.

Rushing off to class, his books in a bag slung loosely around his shoulder, he arrived just as the late bell chimed.

"Ah, Mr. Lambert. Glad you could join us," said Ms. Holliday, her voice the bittersweetness of honey. She was a young thing, with long, dark hair pulled into a loose bun. Her blue eyes glinted with something Jamie couldn't detect. Some of his perverted classmates made lewd comments about her in the locker rooms, but he didn't like the strange vibe of energy radiating off of her.

He shook himself out of his trance, mumbling a quick, "Sorry," beneath his breath, before shuffling toward his seat.

She didn't stop there, tilting her head with her lips curled in a fake smile. "And where were you exactly, "Mr. Lambert?"

He glanced back at her, making a split second decision as he answered sarcastically, "I was searching for the Chamber of Secrets."

The whole class burst in to laughter, some getting the joke and others having no clue why everyone was laughing (but they giggled too, so they wouldn't feel left out).

"Mr. Lambert," started Mrs. Holliday with barely contained fury, "Please see me in the hall." Several other kids stepped out their seats, a glazed, enchanted look in their eyes, before they blushed deep red and sat back down.

He nodded, spinning on his heel. He tried to ignore the strangely entranced kids or the lull in her voice. "Gladly." From the corner of his eye, he saw Twyla shoot him a look. If he hadn't known better, he would've called it panic. But Jamie  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"didknow better, and Twyla was never panicked.

He left the door wide open behind him.

As soon as he was out the door and pressed against the lockers, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Suddenly, he felt nervous. His hands twiddled. His road-rashes knee stung with sweat. An odd energy hung in the air, eerily still.

He heard the _clip-clap_ of her high heels smack against the floor and the soft _click_  
style="font-size: 16pt;"as the door closed. He saw her shadow come into view, and when he looked up, she was looming above him.

"You've been... misbehaving, Mr. Lambert." The way she said made his skin crawl. "Yup, I've been a bad boy. Are you gonna take away my puppy kibble now?" he said with fake cockiness, a daunting smirk resting on his face.

"Why, you little..." Suddenly, she froze. She zoned in on him, observing. Her back straightened.

Mrs. Holliday studied his face carefully, eyes narrowed. Her hand reared back, and he put his hand up to try and block the hit, surprised. The hit never came. He looked up. She was standing there, glaring down at him. But her expression was still, her body stiller. It all happened, all at once.

She started laughing.

At first it was a mere chuckle, turning into a hearty laugh, turning into a cackle, and finally into an insane guffaw. Her blue eyes twinkled evilly.

"I know you're afraid of me, _demigod_. I can smell the fear—delicious fear." She licked her full lips like she was preparing for a feast.

Then, she started to change.

Her skin paled dramatically. Her hair fell out of it's bun and rose up in a pyramid of flame's. Her teeth elongated into yellow fangs and her slender legs turned into that of a cyborg goat's.

And she was staring right at Jamie.

"Demigod," she cooed, her tongue slicing back and forth, "Won't you come a little closer?" She leaned in seductively. "I won't let this age difference hurt us." He backed up.

"What? Leave me alone! I won't hesitate to hurt you!"

She cursed, baring her teeth. "Ah, one of _Aphrodite's_ offspring, I see. Immune to my charm. Well then, I guess I'll just have to do this the hard way. I have gone rogue from Lady Hecate, and I have survived this far by eating puny mortals such as yourself. Do not doubt me!" She stepped forward, embers swishing in her fiery hair. Jamie pressed further back against the lockers. This was the end. He would live no older than thirteen. He would die young to his evil teacher.

Suddenly he heard a _swish_ and a high pitched scream. Dust floated down around him, gold and sparkling. It shimmered and settled on the ground. "What–" Jamie started, but was interrupted.

"No time for that," snapped Twyla Zahavyin, her reptilian eyes darting back and forth across the hallway. She grabbed his wrist, and Jamie dimly noted that her charm bracelet was warm, like it had been held over a fire.

"Where are we going?" he said, regaining his wits. "What's going on?" She kept walking, not once looking his way. "All will be explained," she recited darkly. Her pace increased to a jog.

He went over the notes in his head. He was never one to study (he had always been quite lazy), but his eye automatically recorded everything that was going on and reported it to his brain.

He went over possibilities in his head, stopping at only one. He made an abringt stop.

Monsters? Check.

Whatever Mrs. Holliday was wasn't human.

Demigods? Check.

Mrs. Holliday had mentioned demigods; specifically, calling him one.

Gods? Check.

Again, Mrs. Holliday had mentioned going rogue from 'Lady Hecate', whoever that was. He distantly recognized the name from when his brother studied the Greek gods a few years ago.

Twyla tugged at his wrist, but he stood still, processing the information. "What?" she pressed, obviously annoyed. "We need to move, and you standing there like a lifeless slug isn't helping us–" He interrupted her. "The Greek gods. They're real. And... and you're a demigod.  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"I'ma demigod."

She looked surprised. "How did you– You know what? Never mind. We just need to get a move on. The pegasi are fast. Bush gave them a double shot of pure caffeine. C'mon," she said quickly. Jamie could sense her annoyance at her ADHD.

They reached the front doors and stepped out into the brisk Canadian air.

"Who's Bush?" Jamie asked a while later.

They were sitting on two pure white pegasi, soaring through the bright blue sky. Wind ruffled both his and Twyla's hair, and while his was cropped and containable, her's whipped around and slapped her face (and, on several occasions, his face). He had proposed putting it up, but she had shot him one of her 'Talk-Again-And-I'll-Murder-You' glares, and he had wisely kept quiet since then.

But the question bugged him. He had heard the name Bush before. He actually remembered it distinctly. From what he could remember, Bush was the friend from school Jace would always blabber on about. But how did he fall into all of this?

Twyla clucked her tongue. "A satyr," she said, "Half boy, half goat, half idiot."—(Jamie tried to hold his tongue about how three halves equaled 150%)—"He made me come to take you in, because apparently Mr. D sent him to get some son of Nike in Kentucky and it would take a few weeks to gain his trust. For some reason, he was frantic about it, afraid that Apollo or Ares or someone would get mad if he didn't have everyone to Camp by the deadline. Whatever that's supposed to mean."

She finished her little rant with a huff as they continued gliding at supersonic speeds.

Jamie took a bar of chocolate out of his pocket. They had stopped at a little convenience store in Toronto and got small snacks for what might've been a long flight. Luckily, the pegasi were hyped on caffeine and Twyla reported it would slice their time in two (with very much different phrasing).

A bald eagle soared past him, its wings spread wide, and he took it as a sign that they had just crossed the American-Canadian border.

He looked down at the bustling city of what he assumed was New York, and smiled— the first real, true smile that had come across his face since his brother disappeared. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe things would get better.

But, as his grandmother used to say, things will get bad before they will get better.

 **That's a wrap! Sorry it took so long, sometimes I get a little unmotivated. But don't worry, I'm working to improve that! School starts for me in two weeks, so I figured I'd better get working on the next chappie. Any constructive criticism? Thoughts? Wishes? Pairings? Ideas? Ah, don't share an idea with me unless I'm allowed to use it. I might already have something similar planned, and I don't want it to seem like I'm stealing your idea. Any who, bye-bye, fellow demigods!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Judy Rusher, Slayer of the Chimera, Unclaimed**


	7. Apollo IV

**APOLLO'S DAY STARTED OUT WITH A BANG.** Quite literally.

It was a quiet Tuesday morning. He was laying in bed, watching drearily as part of his essence rode the Sun chariot around the world. Staring into the pink-tinted windowsill (courtesy of Aphrodite), he couldn't help but wonder if his sister had noticed her missing huntress.

He rolled over in the bed. Greek gods didn't need sleep, but it was a blissful state Hypnos had gotten them addicted to. Plus, it was good for wooing mortal women (and, occasionally, men). A wide yellow comforter that seemed to glisten like real gold sat atop satin white sheets. Fluffed up pillows in plain white cases rested against the bed's head. It was the least garish thing in Apollo's temple.

Oh, and the gorgeous brunette huntress sleeping next to him. You couldn't miss her.

It was an accident, really. He had been walking in a handsome mortal form along the streets of Wisconsin, when he had stumbled across his sister and her followers.

"Apollo," she had scowled, auburn hair swishing in its pony tail, "What're _you_ doing here?" He plastered on a cheesy smile. "Just enjoying the sunshine, little sis!" Her scowl grew and she stepped up into his face. If a thirteen-year-old could look intimidating, Artemis did.

"Stay out of this," she hissed through clenched teeth. He tried to hide his wince. "What else would I do, Arty Farty?" She gave him a deadly glare and Apollo decided to shut up.

"We're hunting a pack of Hellhounds. They seem to be getting smarter; all of the monsters do," Artemis said finally. She observed the clearing, seeming to take notice of the wood just south of where they are. "Huntresses, come with me." They moved to step forward with a murmured, "Yes, M'lady," but Artemis spoke again. "Regina, Samantha. Watch my brother. Keep him out of trouble."

The too girls didn't look very thrilled, but nodded grudgingly. "Yes, M'lady," they chorused. Artemis set her jaw and darted towards the woods, her hunters following her until only Regina and Samantha remained.

Regina scowled. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she looked about 14. "We'll get something to eat at that restaurant," she said, pointing at a diner a short walk away. McDonalds, it read on a yellow sign. Apollo wondered who thought it was a good idea to name it that.

They arrived a minute later.

Regina scowled. "I'm going to the washroom. I may be a few minutes." She looked at the other girl. "Samantha, watch the pig. I'll be a few minutes." With that, she marched towards the bold 'RESTROOMS' sign near the back.

Samantha stared after her friend. She had short brown hair, a fairly dark complexion, and black eyes. She was gorgeous, and a lot older than most hunters—perhaps seventeen, eighteen.

Just around Apollo's current form.

"So," he started, seeing as she wasn't going to anytime soon, "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" She didn't answer, but a slight blush rose to her cheeks. Apollo took that as a win.

He changed his shirt with a snap of his fingers. He leant in. "You know, this shirt is made out of boyfriend material." No response. He pretended not to notice.

"Kiss me if I'm wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?" She cracked a grin.

Apollo clasped his hands together satisfactorily, before quickly covering his eyes. "Did the Sun just come out, or did you smile?" She said nothing, but her cheeks heated up even more.

He leant back, pretending to give up. Looking in the direction of the bathroom, he saw a short line. If he turned a little, he could see Regina's parka. She was probably second or third in line. He still had a few more minutes!

He snapped out of his thoughts. "Oh, were you talking to me?" he asked Samantha. She looked confused and shook her head no. Apollo got close to her face. "Please start." She blushed cherry and stuck out her hand. "S-Samantha," she stammered. Apollo chuckled. "So I gathered."

They talked for a few more minutes, which was mainly Apollo flirting, and Samantha warming up to him, with Apollo keeping a close eye on Regina. As soon as she stepped into the bathroom, he murmured, her practically on his lap, "Let's ditch the girl. I wanna show you my temple." She giggled.

"O-okay." Apollo took her hand and practically pulled her out of there, before disappearing in a flash of white light.

That lead up to where he was now. It was the break of dawn, and he briefly wondered if Artemis had noticed her missing huntress. Then he realized he was worrying for no reason.

Why worry about the inevitable?

He was just starting to rub the sleep for his eyes when he heard a sudden _twang_ that he would recognize anywhere, followed by a  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"boomas the doors to his temple were quite literally blown open.

"Apollo, you insufferable pig!" he heard his sister call out, obviously seething. Apollo threw the blankets over his bedmate.

"Artemis, how cool of you to join us—er, me! Join _me_ , not us, because there is no us! Just me and my comfy bed!" He gave a little bounce to prove his point. Artemis did not look amused.

"You took one of my huntresses, and now I have to turn her into a jackalope!" She waved her free hand at Samantha dismissively, and the now ex-huntress slowly turned into a sleeping jackalope. She stirred from her sleep but didn't wake.

"She was all over me!" he lied, but the attempt was futile. Artemis was already screaming in his face, and he was screaming back. It was pointless nonsense, about his dumbness and greed, and he yelled back that she had a stupid creed.

"I wish you'd be responsible, you doofus!"

He carried on his argument, not once stopping to filter his thoughts. "I can be responsible!"

She snorts. "Please!"

"I totally can."

"Can not."

"Can too!"

"You don't even have a smudge of responsibility!"

"Yeah, well, neither do you!"

"I lead a group of huntresses!"

"I could so do that."

"Oh, yeah? Prove it."

Apollo licked his lips. "By doing what?"

"Making your own group or something, for gods' sake, Apollo!"

"I'll do it."

He smirked, and before he knew it, Artemis had disappeared in a flash of silver light and he had promised to make a group of hunters.

That was four months ago, and since then, Apollo had chosen 12 or 13 different demigods to join him, and he gave a random satyr—Bush, was his name?—the job to bring those half-bloods to Camp Half-Blood; at least, those who weren't already there. And now, his plan was unfolding.

He flashed down to the Camp. It was bustling with life, with vibrancy to the max. Apollo felt bad for disturbing it. It was quite a few years since he had been turned mortal, so his memories were hazy. They had been ever since he turned back  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"immortal.

He stared at the entrance way as he walked up the hill, at the great pine standing at the top, at the uncut grass that rose just below his knees. He felt the aura of the invisible shield around the camp, trying to reject him, but he was a god, so he forged through.

He was greeted by a conch horn signaling an attack and was suddenly surrounded by confused and threatening demigods.

"Who are you?" asks a fourteen year old near the front. His large ears allows Apollo identify him immediately: Gunnar Wagoner, Son of Demeter and descendant of Ares.

Apollo spreads his arms wide, his face adorned with a blinding smile. "Why, Gunnar, I'm surprised you don't recognize me. I'm Apollo, the god of archery, poetry, medicine, manly beauty—"

"Yeah, we get it," says a camper from the front. Apollo looks over, flabbergasted, but before he can talk more, another camper—Clarrise La Rue, was it?—stomps her foot, obviously angry.

"What's your point in coming here, Apollo? Haven't you done enough?" He was about to respond (or turn her into a duck, same difference), when a blonde camper steps forward.

"Calm down, Clarrise. Lord Apollo, I assume you're here for your demigods?"

The campers bristle, especially the undetermined ones, but Apollo ignored them. "Yes," he starts, surprised. "How do you–"

"Bush told me," she interrupts, heaving a sigh. "Come on, let's go. We were expecting you."

The confused campers linger for a few seconds, but decide they aren't getting any more information and drift away. Apollo smiles and follows the fast-walking girl across to the beach, which is surprisingly empty, save a satyr with scruffy white fur.

When he sees them, he bleats. "Ba-ha-ha~! I'll go get them!" Then he rushes off, his furry tail shaking.

Apollo frowns and sits on a rock. "So," he asks after a moment of silence, "Did the satyr–"

"Bush," she interrupts.

"Yeah, him. So, did Bush tell you everything?"

She grimaces and folds her hands. "Everything I need to know. I'm Elizabeth, daughter of Athena. One of your selections."

He clasps his hands together as realization dawns on him. "Elizabeth! Oh, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. Did you get a haircut?" She scowls. "A trim."

"Oh, potato, potato," he says, pronouncing the two words the same. "Makes no difference. Please, sit, while we wait for my other selections."

He scoots over on his rock. She frowns. "I'll stand, thank you." He shrugs. "Suit yourself."

They stay there in silence for 1 long minute before the first selection arrives. Or, rather, the first two.

"Oh! Elizabeth, hi!" says the first. Apollo pinpointed him as Jace Lamberson, son of Hephaestus. The second is easy, too, with his unmistakable navy eyepatch: Jamie Lamberson, son of Aphrodite.

The next few quickly follow. A heavy girl with dark hair: Ambrosia, daughter of Hermes. Callista, daughter of Khione. Ashton, son of Hephaestus.

Soon enough, the whole gang's there. The formerly best empty beach was now stuffed with 13 half-bloods, a god, and a goat (at which one of his selections was standing as far away from as possible. Odd.)

He claps his hands together, standing up and looking proud. "I've gathered you all here today because I got in an argument with my sister, so now I need a bunch of hunters and huntresses. Since no one gave a second glance at my sign up sheet in the Big House, I went ahead and cherry picked my own candidates. Welcome to the Hunters of Apollo!"

Confusion rippled among the crowd, before realization dawned on each one of their faces. One girl tried to run away, but Apollo used the force to stop her.

"Look," he sighed, "I know this is against your will and all, but you gotta trust me! When have I ever done you wrong?"

The crowd murmured, and Apollo heard a few "Octavian"'s and "Prophecies"'s. Apollo grinned.

"Ah, yes! A prophecy! I need to give you one of those. Is Rachel still in business? I will consult her!" They tittered.

"Um, Lord Apollo? Why do we need a prophecy?" Apollo looked surprised. "Why, because I'm the god of prophecies! Besides, this has to be slightly different from Artemis's group!"

And then Apollo skipped off, presumably to find Rachel, and the demigods had no choice but to follow.

'This is going to be fun,' he thinks to himself, as he watches part of his essence pull the sun chariot around Earth.

 **That's a wrap! Sorry for the bad updating schedule. I am currently juggling Algebra 1, Honors Science, Honors English, and Honors Geography, all in Seventh Grade. I'm always writing an actual book, the kind you pick up at a book store, but have no worries. I will never abandon you without telling, and if I do, then you can adopt it after PMing me.**

 **Of course, I plan to finish this book. I hate letting people down. Can any of you guess who the main villain is. I'll give you a hint: they've never been in the PJO or HoO books before, but she will be in the HoA book(s). Comment any thoughts or ideas, or who you want me to do next!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Judy Rush**

 **Slayer of the Chimera.**


	8. Ashton V

**ASHTON NEVER ASKED FOR MUCH.** When he was little, he was never the type of kid to beg their mom to buy them the toys aisle; in school, he kept to himself and expected others to do the same. It wasn't until he first came to Camp Jupiter  
that he started asking: Will you get that hammer for me? Lend me that screw?

Dad, will you give me a little bit of attention?

That was the ball-dropper, the question he prayed to the gods each night at dinner before he ate. Of course, it had morphed over the years. From asking who his dad was at Camp Jupiter, then, after being claimed and sent to Camp Half-Blood, asking for  
his dad to send him proof.

It changed several more times before he finally settled on the current question, which was, as previously stated: Dad, will you give me a little bit of attention?

Now he finally got a little bit of attention from the gods; maybe not his dad, but he always admired Apollo. Apollo got attention; Apollo got noticed. Maybe, just maybe, that was what Ashton really wanted.

He sighed and continued clearing his designated cabin workspace. The trinkets and half-charred tools fell into the plastic Walmart bag with a single swipe of his hand. Saw dust (Did he even own a saw?) billowed up and out, sparkling in the fluorescent  
yellow light.

Ashton tied off the nearly full bag, automatically reaching for another one. His hand met empty space. He glanced over with skeptical surprise, only to realize that he was out of a Walmart bags. All that remained in his bed section was the old comforter  
he scarcely used and a flip phone he only used for emergencies.

Ashton smiled at his work, gingerly setting his most recent Walmart bag down. It clunked against the floor. He surveyed the Hephaestus cabin; it's steel-embroidered doorway, the Legos and wood scraps scattered amongst the floor. This place was like home  
to him, following only Camp Jupiter and his mom and step-dad's house.

Ashton huffed and cleared his head, turning away. He was packed now. Apollo had informed (read: demanded) them to meet him at Thalia's Pine at exactly four minutes from dawn. Most of his siblings were asleep by now, but he could still hear murmured speech  
and muffled drills coming from the lower workspace.

He wanted to say goodbye (who knew how long he would be gone?) but as he checked the one fancy thing he owned—a beautiful wristwatch his Vulcan friends crafted for his 18th birthday— he realized it was six minutes from dawn. He couldn't be late, couldn't  
have this taken away.

Plus, he didn't want to be turned into a duck. That would be bad.

Ashton grabbed the plastic bags and slung them over his shoulder, shifting his weight. It wasn't very heavy, but it was difficult to carry in terms of size. As he headed towards the door, struggling to keep his grip, he gave one last look at the place  
he had known for two summers.

Ashton quietly shut the door behind him and waltzed away, the lowered moon illuminating his path.

He got there a minute later. Jace, his half-brother as of three months, had been waiting there for probably a half-hour. He had dropped by a few times to retrieve forgotten baggage, but now he was slumped against his Walmart bags, eyes shut. Jace was  
long since over the Canada-U.S. time difference, but had opted to stay up to pack. Now, Ashton could tell he regretted it.

There were a few other people there that Ashton vaguely recognized: Josie Hart from the Dionysus cabin, Gunnar Wagoner from the Ares cabin **(Edit: As Guest has brought to my attention, Gunnar is Demeter's son and a legacy of Ares. My bad! Thanks, Guest!)** and  
Ambrosia Feint from the Hermes cabin. There were a few others who had their backs turned or were too far away for Ashton to see. Several dark shapes stalked towards the tree from the corner of his eye; he assumed it was the rest of the candidates.

Someone came and stood in front of him. Josie Hart, Ashton realized, turning to face her. He had never really known her, so it was the first time he actually got a good look. She had brown hair that hung in a low, messy ponytail, and small bags hung under  
her grape-green eyes. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, hardly concealed by the moonlit shadow cast upon her face.

She wasn't looking at him; instead the ground next to him. She looked as if she had asked him something, and Ashton snapped out of his daze.

"Uh, what?" he asked dumbly, smacking his forehead. He eyed the wrist watch. Less than one minute left.

Josie nodded and gave an irritated glance. "My cat," she explained, arms crossed, "Is sitting on your lap. Give him back, will you?"

It wasn't a request, more so a demand. Ashton muttered something real smart ("Oh, uh...") and scrambled to pick the orange cat up. He hadn't even noticed that he was absentmindedly stroking it.

The brown haired girl muttered "Thanks" as he handed her the pet. He hadn't even known cats were allowed in Camp Half-Blood! Just as he was about to quest her, a sudden flash of light shimmered not far away. Ashton instinctively averted his eyes, instead  
choosing to examine the many cracks in the bark of Thalia's Tree.

The light stopped shining according to his peripheral vision, so he spun his body around, eager to see what he knew had appeared.

Apollo, with his blonde hair curled to his shoulders, stood in manly glory.

The god wore a smug grin on his face as he observed the small crowd of half-bloods. He was right on time, four minutes before dawn. For some reason, Ashton assumed that Apollo would be late; it seemed to suit his personality. But no, he stood before them,  
radiating warmth and power.

The slight breeze seemed to disperse, and the son of Hephaestus briefly wondered why, before coming to the quick conclusion that it was brought on by Apollo's mere presence. Ashton started to take off his CHB hoodie, amazed at the sudden heat that enveloped  
the area, but Apollo caught sight of him.

Smiling in his direction with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he said, "You might want to keep on that hoodie, Ashton Short. It may be hot now, but in a moment you may need all the warmth you can get."

Ashton was confused but obliged. The hoodie began to feel sticky against his skin, and he shuddered uncomfortably. Standing up, he noticed Josie, still standing next to him, twitch her hand, itching to take off the pale cardigan pulled to her chest. Her  
cat meowed loudly and plunked on the ground.

Apollo smirked and made a hand gesture for someone to move forward. They shuffled and glanced at one another, confused. Someone pointed at themselves, as if to say, "You mean me?" The Greek god shook his head and pointed again.

A girl with wavy caramel hair and cobalt blue eyes stepped forward nervously. Ashton vaguely recognized her, but couldn't place a name to a face.

The girl, after receiving an encouraging glance from Apollo, stepped up next to the god.

"This," he said loudly, "Is Melody. Melody is going to be your driver today!"

Melody seemed to choke and her eyes widened. "What?" she spluttered, aghast, "I'm only fourteen, I don't know how to drive!"

Apollo nodded, looking proud of himself. "Which is exactly why you need to learn! I'll help you for the first half, and then I'll meet you at camp. See how nice I am?" Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel, waltzing behind a group of shrubbery.  
After a second of processing, they followed, lead by Elisabeth and brought up by Melody, still in shock. Ashton slowed his pace to meet hers.

"Hey," he stared, trying for a cheesy grin. "What's brown and sticky?" Melody furrowed her eyebrows at him, obviously knowing the answer, but after a moment of doubt settling in, "I don't know, what?" She sounded exhausted and Ashton's heart went out  
to her.

"A stick!" He burst out laughing at the corny joke, even going so far as to double over, holding his gut. He wanted to flirt with her to cheer her up, but remembered that she was a fourteen year old and he was nineteen.

She giggled. He could tell it was fake, but it was something. He crouched down slightly to look her in the eye.

"Melody, right?" He grinned. "A melody to my heart, more like." They both knew he didn't feel about her like that; it was just innocent flirting to bring her spirit up. It seemed to work and she smiled, revealing pearly white teeth.

They reached the area behind the bushes a second later, and Ashton couldn't help but gasp at the sight before them. A double bus, complete with gold lining and bronze shingles, sat in all its glory. The doors were open, and Ashton could see Apollo sitting  
in the driver's seat, motioning for them to come in.

Elizabeth hesitantly walked aboard, posture stiff. Gunnar quickly followed. They all shuffled on, the only noise being the crickets chirping. Ashton got the seat closest to the front, just behind the driver's seat. Melody got on behind him, and the doors  
shut with a sound resembling an aircraft's door.

Melody sat next to Apollo on a seat Ashton was sure hadn't been there before. She shifted uncomfortably as Apollo began explaining the basics.

Ashton knew how to drive, but nothing Apollo said made sense to him. What the Hades was an "exsersion knob"?

All in a moments notice, the engine started. The radio blasted disco music, making his ears throb. Energy seemed to thrum around him. He suddenly felt simultaneously hot and cold, his toes numb in his shoes and his arms like spaghetti noodles.

And, after that one second, they were shooting through the air like a star, a flaming star of energy. Ashton had to keep his nose from bursting into flames, it was so energizing.

Ashton figured that they were in the Sun Chariot by then; which is why it so greatly confused him by the cold settling into his bones. He shivered, and all of a sudden he felt queasy. His face felt like it was being peeled from his skull. Iciness wrapped  
its way around his limbs, and he was suddenly glad he kept on his hoodie.

They kept at that speed for a few minutes (although Ashton's ADHD made it feel like hours) before slowing to a stop. His queasiness ceased abruptly, and he lurched forward in his cushioned seat. His head thwacked against the headboard.

He groaned, but tried to put in a grin. "Good job, gorgeous," he flirted with Melody, trying to keep the sickness out of his voice. Even Apollo looked a little nauseous.

"All…Alright," the Greek god choked, clapping together his palms. "Good job, Melody. That was…" he gagged slightly, "Awesome."

Melody blushed, looking down. "Uh, thanks," she said after a moment. Her lip was bitten raw as she chewed on it. Ashton stood up, making a lame joke about going to the bathroom, before stepping out of the bus.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh, my gods," he gasped, surveying the wildlife. It was truly beautiful. The soft croak of frogs and the light hum of the wind made him feel for once at peace, and he could only imagine how soft the grass would be if he wasn't wearing his sneakers. A  
creak trickled nearby, and small minnows and coy swam throughout it, darting about the water. Most had retreated beneath the water's surface, as had the other creatures around them.

If it were daytime, Ashton was sure he would see the thousands of honeysuckles and lilacs spread about the evergreen oasis, would see the hundreds of tree frogs and squirrels squirming about.

Apollo waltzed out behind him, grinning proudly. "Welcome," he wiped his hands on his jeans, "To your training grounds."

 **/unedited**

 **Signed,**

 **Judy Rush**

 **Unclaimed**

 **Slayer of the Chimera**


	9. Callista VI

**CALLISTA OFTEN PRIDED HERSELF WITH BEING FIT.** Her father had beaten it into her that she was nothing; too dumb, too small, too weak. So, when she came to Camp, she automatically got rid of those things. She become smarter, faster, stronger. She was unstoppable.

But, then again, Apollo's training was useless.

Next to her, Thea groaned as they were ordered to do another set of push-ups. "This is pointless," she murmured beneath her breath, "We already know how to do this." Silently, Callista disagreed; but she kept her expression flat. Thea was a nice girl, and Callista would almost use the word 'friend' to describe her, but she knew how dangerous the demigod world could be, especially with so many scents. She was honestly surprised they hadn't been attacked yet.

From the front, Apollo clapped his hands together, stalking the area and observing them like they were fresh meat. They had been separated into three groups, each assigned a different body part. Obviously, Callista's group had been given arms; the next group had been assigned abs, and the final had been assigned legs. Parts of Apollo's conscious patrolled each group, calling out orders and assisting those who needed it. There had yet to be anyone who failed at a procedure, but Thea was awfully close, Callista could tell.

None of what they were doing was exceedingly difficult to her. Sure it had been ages since she last trained so hard, but the muscle memory was still there. She was only half a year old when her mother, Khione, left her father, but she still remembered the soft drawl of her calm voice, or the curt and icy flick of her tongue when she was upset. She remembered her dad, before everything went downhill, explaining every war story, showing her young but intelligent mind the correct form for push-ups or the correct way to hold a knife.

It all came back to her a flow of voices and phrases with each time she lowered her body on shaky arms.

She pulled her pale hair into a ponytail (which proved to be a difficult task, seeing as it was no longer than her shoulders). The girl behind Callista–Twyla, was her name?–had long, straight brown hair that tousled and tangled in the breeze. Callista wondered how she handled that without putting it up.

She came out of her thoughts just in time to hear the last person in the group finish. Sweat seemed to puddle around the group, making the air smell thick and their skin sticky. She shifted uncomfortably, careful to avoid eye contact with their Apollo. If there was one thing she learned from her dad, it was to avoid looking superiors in the eye; it may rile them up and make them hurt you.

Suddenly, a whistle resonated through the clearing. Thea, panting, clutched her ears, as did a few people surrounding them. The main Apollo, who had been roaming every group and commenting on ways to improve, stood straight up at the front. He seemed tired, and all his consciouses merged back into him. He looked slightly better, but still worn down.

"Good job," he yawned, arms stretching far above his head. "The Sun can't give me energy anymore because it's gone around the edge, so..." He seemed to get an idea. "We'll work on survival skills! To be a hunter, you must know how to be in the wild. Also, you have to learn to cooperate, so might as well hit two birds with one stone. Have fun! G'night."

With a single snap of his fingers, he was gone in an array of light, leaving thirteen demigods gaping at where he once stood. The only sounds were the crickets chirping as the Moon glistened through the cracks in the canopy of trees.

"So... what do we do now?" questioned Thea, it hung lightly at the burn on her neck. Callista sent her a glance, nudging her slightly. The daughter of Aphrodite put her hand down.

"Let's split into groups," suggested a tall blonde boy, a cheeky grin on his face. "Ah, I mean, by age or parent or something." Callista had never talked to him, but he looked familiar. Ashton, she recalled.

The crowd murmured and scuffled into messy sections, sorting themselves by age. A minute passed and a few people came to stand by Callista, one holding up their pinkie, the middle finger down, and the rest of the fingers up except the pinkie on her other hand. Callista remembered learning that in school, something about multiplying by nines.

The area quieted down as they finished separating themselves. From the front, Ashton, who was standing alone, thought aloud, "Um, maybe so some of us aren't as lonely we'll go into general age groups?" The murmuring began again as Ashton clarified, "Ages 16 and older will be Group 3, ages 14 and 15 will be Group 2, and anyone below 14 will be Group 1."

Another minute passed as people gathered around each other, asking for ages and birthdays. Eventually they managed three uneven groups.

"How about half of the 14 year olds are with the 13 year olds and the other half with the 15 year olds— uh, _old._ "

They continued in this fashion until they eventually had three somewhat even sections. Ashton, with a final cheeky grin, told them to not stray too far from the camp but to explore the general area together. Then he half-jogged over to Callista's group.

"So," he started after a second of awkward silence. "Let's go around and say our names. I'll go first. Ashton Short, son of Hephaestus." He made a small motion to Thea, who was standing next to him. She blushed and beamed, "Thea, daughter of Aphrodite."

"What, no last name?" muttered a boyish looking girl to Callista's right. He hair was dark chestnut and pulled into a loose, careless ponytail. Small freckles and sunspots dotted her skin.

Thea looked offended. "I have a last name, thank you very much. It's Jones. I'm glad you took interest in me, though, " she added as an afterthought, fluttering her long eyelashes. The other girl glared and made another comment beneath her breath. Callista couldn't understand her, but apparently Thea did.

"You—" she gasped angrily, temporarily loosing her calm exposition. She then smirked, stepping forward. "You wanna fight, _perra_? 'Cause trust me, we can fight."

The other girl met her in the middle of the semi-circle the group had formed, scowling. If Callista looked closely, she could she a tinge of sadness in her green-brown eyes. She knew those eyes. She saw that emotion everyday when she looked in the mirror since escaping.

Suddenly she was between them, forcing them apart. Both girls looked angry, but it was more of a competitive type of angry. Still, as they returned to their original places, Thea said in a different language, "Eso fue divertido. Hagámoslo de nuevo alguna vez." Callista remembered the daughter of Aphrodite telling her that she knew Spanish, Russian, and Latin along with English. Callista returned to her former position, keeping her face stony and blank. Ashton was looking slightly nervous, obviously aware of the fighting yet unable to do anything about it for fear of backlash. One of the girls that Callista didn't know, the one who had remained silent throughout the ordeal, spoke next. Her voice was smooth and milky. "Faye Lancashire, daughter of Mercury. To you  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"graecus, it is Hermes."

Callista swallowed and asked coolly (oh, the puns), "What is a Roman doing with a bunch of Greeks?" She kept her voice low and steady. Pausing for a fraction of a second, Faye responded, "More like, what's a bunch of Greeks doing with a Roman?" Despite herself, Callista smiled–a tiny, barely distinguishable grin that contrasted from her usual grim line. "Touché." They shared a secret smile before both expressions returned to normal.

"Josephine," muttered Faye, giving her friend a look. "Your turn." The abrasive girl from earlier (who was apparently named Josephine) said in a snarky voice, "Well, I find that rather unnecessary seeing as you just told everyone." Faye's expression was warning, along with the quiet, "Jo, c'mon..." Josephine sighed, and for the first time Callista noticed a fluffy orange cat at her foot. "I'm Josephine Hart, daughter of Dionysus. This is Crookshanks." She made an exaggerated gesture at the mewling tabby, sending Faye an exasperated look. "There, you happy?" Faye crossed her arms. "Very."

Sensing the tense atmosphere, Callista stepped forward. "Callista Snow, my mom is Khione." Ashton murmured, "Snow, huh?" at the same time Josephine muttered, "Snow, how convenient." Clenching her fists, Callista stepped back, keeping her head held high.

"So..." Ashton shifted uncomfortably, "Anyone up for dancing?" He flashed a sly grin at Thea, whose face turned bright red as she sputtered. "I–I, uh–" Josephine intervened. "Bleh, romance. Who's up for a game of tag?" Callista hummed in agreement (although she had quite enjoyed seeing Thea turn the color of a beet) and surveyed the area. They had barely moved from where they started, but by now the sector of the forest had been cleared out by Groups 1 and 2. There was just enough room for running, and it would help with their endurance, speed, and stamina.

Plus, Callista wanted to play tag. She had never gotten to as a child, what with her mother leaving and her father beating her up.

Ashton pouted, but nonetheless turned to Thea and, upon lightly smacking her arm, yelled, "You're it!" He took off running, weaving through the trees. Thea scowled half-heartedly. "I'll get you, my pretties!" she cackled in a croaky voice. She tried to tag Faye, but she had moved out of the way. Thea muttered a curse in Spanish, but the smile on her face was blinding. She darted off in Ashton's direction after tagging Josephine, who muttered a, "And your little dog, too," before following suit.

Callista watched them run, crawling up a tree to watch. The branches groaned but supported her weight as she surveyed the cluster of trees they were dancing through. A sharp laugh emitted from her throat. They stumbled and tripped over one another, smiles painting their faces through their panting. The image seemed unrealistic almost, that people so different could be so  
style="font-style: italic; font-size: 16pt;"alike.A voice next to her spoke, making her jump discreetly. "Enjoying the view?"

Now that they were up close, Callista could see how Faye looked. Her eyes were a dark, malted chocolate, practically black. Her hair was like a raven's feather, perfectly straight up until the end, just beneath her shoulders, where it curled just slightly. Her skin was clear ivory, no marks of freckles or moles anywhere. The only scar visible was a white stretch of skin on her protruding collarbone, but even that was difficult to see because of her paleness. Callista wondered if people thought she was that pale.

Callista hummed and stared back down at the group. She hadn't noticed Faye missing. "I can be pretty quite when I want to," offered Faye, like she could see into Callista's thoughts. For all Callista knew, she could. She said as much.

Faye blinked. "Was that a joke?" _Yeah,_ Callista wanted to say, but before the words could even exit her mouth there was a sharp scream from nearby. Callista perked up, eyes widening. The rest of the group paused in their places, confused. "What was that?" she heard Thea ask. "A scream, dum dum!" scowled Josephine. Callista didn't stay to hear them finish. She hopped down from her perch and took off running. The forestry blurred around her and she distantly noticed Faye sprinting next to her and then in front, expression determined. The others probably weren't far behind.

As Callista got nearer to the source of the scream, she heard a young voice murmuring, "Oh, gods, oh, gods," repeatedly. In a way, the voice sounded wet, almost as if they had been crying–or still were. Callista picked up the pace.

With a final stride, she broke into a small clearing. The first thing she saw was blood, smeared along the grass in a stain of red. The person who had been muttering was kneeling over a body, sobbing and gasping for air. That's when Callista realized something terrifying.

The body wasn't moving.

 **Ta da! At long last, your dear author has finished! Yay! Sorry this one took so long to get out. I have no excuse for my lateness, just the fact that I was lazy and very unproductive. On the bright side, it's almost Halloween! Yippee! Side note, me no ablo Espanyol. The entire Spanish part was Google translate, so if anyone is fluent in said language and is extremely offended... sorry 'bout that. What happened to the two people? Who are they? No, really, who are they? I haven't decided yet, but I have an idea. Any who, a commenter on FF reminded me to do the disclaimer, so shout out to Tawny613!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or any characters in this story other than Ambrosia Feint. The universe is owned by Rick Riordan and the characters by various people. If a character resembles you or your family in any way, shape, or form, it is merely coincidence and not to be taken seriously.**

 **There we go. Also, I got my red belt in TaeKwonDo last week, so yay to that! In addition, should I start responding to your guys' reviews? Is that even allowed? Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **xxUneditedxx**

 **Signed, Judy Rush, Unclaimed, Slayer of the Chimera**


	10. Ambrosia VII

**NO MATTER HOW HARD AMBROSIA SCRUBBED** , the blood wouldn't come off. She had tried simply rinsing it in the river, then rubbing it with leaves, then scraping with rocks; but despite her efforts, the tint of red was still there, taunting her as she scraped her hands raw.

 _"Maybe we should go explore a little bit?"_

 _She shuddered and plopped on the grassy floor, staring at her hands._

 _"Yeah, sure! It's getting cramped in here, anyway."_

It all happened so fast.

 _"Look over there! It's a butterfly!"_

 _"A butterfly? This late at night?"_

 _"Com'n, let's chase it!"_

They ran through the woods for five minutes, following that butterfly to the best of their ability, but they lost it in the night.

 _"Maybe we should... take a break?"_

 _"Uh, yeah, sure!" They sat down on a rock, idly chatting about camp and such. Both were highly aware of their surroundings, but as they kept chatting, their minds focused in on one another._

 _"Hey," Ambrosia started, flashing a winning smile, "You're pretty and I'm cute, together we'd be pretty cute." They both laughed, and Ambrosia's companion cackled, "That's good, but check out this one: Are you Wifi? Because I'm feeling a connection!" They both erupted into giggles at the pick-up line exchange, and Ambrosia noticed something on her back._

 _"Hey, is that a tattoo? " she asks, tilting her head. The other girl nods excitedly. "Yeah, it's a phoenix. I have no idea how the tattoo guy thought I was old enough, but he did it." Ambrosia smiled and asked, "But why a phoenix?" Just as the girl opened her mouth to answer, it happened._

Ambrosia felt bile rise up in her throat, a horrible reminder of her past self. She tried to push it down as tears stung her eyes, but if forcibly came up, and she puked into the river stream.

Someone came into the area of forestry and was gently patting her back, rubbing soothing circles and whispering to let it all out. Ambrosia puked until she was dry heaving, her body unable to find anymore food. Coughing and wiping her mouth against the sleeve of her jacket, she murmured a tearful, "Sorry."

The person behind her didn't wait a beat, simply saying, "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I'm disgusting," Ambrosia assured, only to which the other person responded, "No, you're not. Now, mind telling me what happened in that clearing?"

Turning towards the figure, Ambrosia allowed herself to soak in their appearance. His hair was a dark blonde, not dark enough for brown but not light enough for a classification of yellow. His eyes, which were a strange teal, shimmered beneath the canopy of leaves above their heads, swimming with emotions: Sadness, kindness, hope, and trust, all in a cyclone of feeling. She recognized him in an instance as she felt her vision blur further.

"It all happened so fast, Ashton. We strayed from the group 'cause we were talking and-" Ambrosia paused, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "And, and we were just there and then she wasn't and there was blood everywhere..." she broke down into a pitiful heap, stuttering through her words as fat tears slid down her cheeks.

"Hey, shush. Everything is okay. Your friend will be fine. Uh, what did you say her name was?"

Ambrosia sniffled. "Is, not was. She's still alive, remember? And– and her name is Cara, Cara Stewart. Daughter of Hecate."

Ashton nodded. "Do you want to see her? She's still unconscious and—" he hesitated, fighting an inner argument with himself. "And things aren't looking too good. I figured—"

Ambrosia interrupted him quickly, picking herself up off of the forest floor. "Yes. Oh, gods, let me see her."

Ambrosia always knew that deaths happened everyday, especially when you're the child of a Greek deity. Still, she had never seen something like that, the closest thing being the burning of a shroud on Half-Blood Hill. To see it all happen, to sit there helplessly as a near stranger (who she'd felt she had known all her life) bled out on the waving green grass.

Ashton offered a reassuring smile, standing up. "Sure thing, beautiful," he said, his flirtatious remarks slipping out in an attempt to ease the situation. Although it did little to make Ambrosia feel better, she appreciated the effort.

They half walked/ half ran back to the small clearing of rocks they had initially been dropped off at, Ambrosia gaining more composure as they grew nearer and nearer to the makeshift medical section, "the tent" as they called it (despite there being no tent). As soon as she saw her (dare she say it) friend, all calmness was lost in favor of a fit of tears and fresh memories.

Cara was laying, completely still, on the solid but comfortable dirt. Her entire midsection and lower area was wrapped in torn pieces of fabric. The boy were all shirtless and some of the girls' pants were torn in a desperate search for a gauze substitute. Part of Cara's neck was wrapped up— luckily, the orange fabric was only slightly soaked with the golden-sprinkled red, meaning Cara was bleeding less in that area. Unluckily, the other bandages were saturated quite thoroughly in their hastily applied fashions. An Athena girl was rewrapping some of the more mangy ones.

"Oh, gods..." Ambrosia murmured, holding a hand up to her mouth. She felt tears threatening to fall.

Your fault, the voice in the back of her head whispered, All your fault.

Ambrosia ignored it.

"Oh, gods..." she repeated. "Is she going to be okay?" Her tone was hushed, as if afraid to wake up the unconscious girl. The Athena kid who had been tending to her wounds looked up. Elisabeth, was her name? Elisabeth looked at her seriously, although her grey-blue eyes couldn't conceal her sympathy and worry.

"Cara... well, I won't sugarcoat it. She has some serious bites on her stomach and ribcage. Miraculously, none of the bites hit any important organs. The deepest one just barely missed the small intestines, so that's fortunate. She, uh, has a bite on her neck that's different than the others. It's not deep, just barely grazed her. But here's the weird part. The marks— they look like they would be made by a snake. Empusae don't regularly attack females, much less children of Hecate. Dracaena prefer cities and dark alleyways rather than forestry. So, my question is, what attacked her? And why?"

Ambrosia stayed still for a few seconds, absorbing the attack of sudden information. Finally she said dully, "I don't know."

Elisabeth looked surprised, but before she could speak, Ambrosia continued.

"I, uh, remember it, yes. But there's no way to describe it. There were definitely some empusa there–actually that's an understatement. There were a lot of empusa. And, and standing in the middle of it all was—"

Before she could force the descriptions out of her head and onto her tongue, a sudden gasp interrupted her. Cara inhaled thinly, desperately trying to get oxygen into her exhausted lungs. She heaved and rolled over into her side, heaps of half-digested food spilling from her mouth as she choked on what must of been blood. Red bubbled up around her lips and she desperately clawed at the bandage covering her neck.

Elisabeth reacted immediately, darting the short distance to where Cara was laying. "Shh," she soothed and rubbed small circles in her back, helping her sit up. Jealousy spread into Ambrosia's limbs, but she pushed it down. Not the time, she thought as her breath caught in her throat.

Rushing towards the girl she barely knew, Ambrosia knelt by her side, ignoring the panic she felt upon seeing Cara up close. "What can I do?" she forced a calm tone as she addressed Elisabeth, who was hardly older than her yet still seemed to know how to act accordingly.

Elisabeth paused in the soothing to push her blonde braid behind her shoulder. For a split second, she looked exactly how Ambrosia felt: vulnerable, and anxious, and just flat out scared. Ambrosia chose not to acknowledge it and focus on the bigger problem, the one with the neon pink sign screaming "FOCUS ON ME".

The look quickly vanished from Elisabeth's face and instead an expression of pure determination arose. "You see her wrist?" she asked, not pausing long enough for Ambrosia to answer. "Press down on it gently. The inner part, in, like, the middle. Yeah, like that. There's an acupressure point there that should help."

Ambrosia guided her hands to the space Elisabeth had directed, gently pressing down and massaging it. She had no clue what an 'acupressure point' was, but whatever. She trusted Elisabeth.

Slowly, the puking came to a stop. Ambrosia tried not to look at it, afraid that she herself would throw up again. Ambrosia tore a strip of her orange shirt to be used as a washcloth, gently dabbing it around Cara's mouth. It came back mango-tinted red with demigod blood.

"Concussion," Elisabeth explained as Cara blinked rapidly, and Ambrosia wasn't sure if the daughter of Athena already known or was just now realizing it. With Cara's eyes fluttering open, it was quite obvious, seeing as one pupil was inflated to triple the size of the other.

"What—" she rasped, throat hoarse and dry. There was a note of unfiltered panic in her voice that made Ambrosia cringe. Elisabeth hushed the formerly unconscious girl. "Save your voice, Cara. Just try to relax." she suggested, even though it was more so a demand than a request.

Cara nodded, relieved, as her shoulders slumped. She stayed that way for a long moment, face contorted in dull pain. Finally she opened her mouth, the words Ambrosia had been expecting on the tip of her tongue, before (yet again) Elisabeth intervened.

"I'm sorry, I really am," she apologized, looking slightly ashamed, "But, uh, we don't have any medication for you to use and I don't know enough about herbal remedies to give one to you. You'll have to deal with the pain until Apollo arrives." She talked slowly and loudly, keeping her voice controlled and steady. It seemed to take Cara a moment to process, but then she nodded and shifted her weight uncomfortably.

Elisabeth watched for a second before turning to Ambrosia, who promptly furrowed her brows. "I'm going to go see how they're trying to contact Apollo," she said, nodding over to a group of kids who she hadn't noticed before. One was holding a very old IPhone, elaborately trying to explain how to make a rainbow (likely according to WikiHow). The others were holding drachmas or pacing back and forth, obviously frustrated.

Elisabeth gave one final look towards Cara before pushing herself up with her powerful calfs, stepping around the body and marching towards the others. Ambrosia watched amusedly for a second before directing her attention back at Cara, who was blinking heavily.

"M'tired," she mumbled, barely audible. Biting her lip, Ambrosia decided that the injuries, as painful as they probably were, weren't severe enough for Cara to be comatose. "I know," Ambrosia agreed, offering a small, nervous grin. Cara took a deep, relaxing breath as she slipped back into the realm of Morpheus, her chest rising and falling evenly.

Sighing, Ambrosia leaned back onto her arms, allowing herself a moment of relaxation. The heels of her hands dug into the soft earth, dirt smothering them. Softly humming a Pocahontas song and staring into the blue corn moon (whatever that meant), she reminded herself of her situation.

 _Your name is Ambrosia Feint, and you're fourteen years old. You're the daughter of a man older than America, one of many children. You have black hair and brown eyes. Your favorite color is blue, because blue is the color of the sky, the sky that you've always wanted to reach. You're developing a crush on the girl you just met today, the girl who always just went and almost died on you. You don't know what it is that attacked you, but you sure as Hades aren't going to let it hurt anyone else._

 _Your name is Ambrosia Feint._

 _And man, things are going to get interesting._

 **xxUneditedxx**

 **Yay!! At long last, Judy has finally updated!! Sorry for the unexpected hiatus... I honestly have no excuse. I was just too lazy to write, so I didn't. But today I was like, "You know what? Let's finish this!!" And, well, here we are. I didn't leave you with a cliffhanger for once, so I'll take any award you offer me. Thank you, thank you!! And good night!!**

 **Oh, by the way, a quick disclaimer: I am no doctor. Everything medical in this chapter was researched for about two minutes on google. Sorry for all the puking, my dog has been sick and I guess she got into my head.**

 **Whose POV next? Who attacked Cara and Ambrosia, and why was only Cara injured? Find out next time on (drumroll please) Hunters of Apollo!**

 **Signed,**

 **Judy Rush,**

 **Unclaimed,**

 **Slayer of the Chimera.**


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